Purified
by xoThanksForTheMemoriesxo
Summary: Sister Mary Eunice barely escapes death. Instead of getting her old life back, she's exiled to St. Helena's Home for Unwed Mothers. Asylum/Freak Show crossover.
1. Prologue

**I'm still salty about the ending of Apocalypse. Anyone else?**

…

 _For I know the thoughts that I think toward you, saith the Lord, thoughts of peace, and not of evil, to give you an expected end._ _–Jeremiah 29:11_

"Do you agree?"

Mary Eunice looked up sadly, her soft porcelain hands rested protectively over the life that was protruding from under her plain blue dress. They looked identical to the ones at Briarcliff, just looser and longer. One year ago she was wearing a thin framed black habit, her figure was like a frail stick, and back then she would never have imagined that this would become her reality.

Being here, not as a member of the staff but as a resident. With fuller breasts, swollen feet, and stretch marks around her navel, hips, and thighs.

She could remember so clearly meeting Pepper for the first time. The poor child with ears that stuck out like her belly did now. She missed that old girl. And the bakery, sometimes she could close her eyes and remember the smell of bread filling her lungs and her mouth watering at the softness. She missed Dr. Arden, the most misunderstood person she'd ever known. Her loyalty to him went almost as far as it did to the Lord. But most of all, she missed Sister Jude. The mother she never had, the voice in the back of her mind when she was doubting herself. She missed feeling her sense of purpose at the asylum. Briarcliff was a house of monsters and maniacs to others, but never to her.

It was her home. And it was her calling.

"Mary Eunice? I asked you if you agreed. A child needs a mother and a father."

Her head turned from the older nun in order to keep her composure, a child needed a mother and a father. She agreed, with great heartache. Her cheeks were still stained from all the tears she had been shedding that morning.

"I agree. A child needs a mother and a father."

"Good, Sister," she said with a smile. It almost made Mary Eunice cringe. She wanted nothing more than for things to go back to the way they were. Back to a time where she had her name and her reason for being.

The name that was stolen from her. Her virtue, destroyed along with any hope of ever restoration.

"Are you ready to sign, now?" the older nun asked sliding the document towards her on the desk. Mary Eunice could barely stand to look at it. The document, with the seal of the state, the signature line that would kill any last part of the soul that was once her. She would never be ready to sign it. Maybe to others it was living proof of her indiscretions and blasphemy, but to her it was indeed a symbol of hope. That life could go on despite how one's soul could be once damned from heaven. It wasn't something that she could just dismiss by writing it off as pure chance. Could this be how it was all supposed to happen?

But time was running out, as was Mother Claudia's patience.

The fact was when everything would be all said and done, a baby needed more than just the love she had in her heart. It needed so much more than that. She couldn't put a roof over it's head, or clothe it. When she took her vows, the only thing she carried was her name. And even that was gone. Sister Mary Eunice couldn't be a mother because she had literally nothing in the entire world.

She slid forward to the edge of the seat, her swollen breasts sat on top of her stomach. The pen, it laid right there next to the paper. Her hand picked it up and her insides twisted wildly. The blue eyes that looked down on the bottom line were blurry from tears. This was more painful than anything she had experienced ever. Even when she was possessed by the devil, this already had caused more tears.

And then she felt a strong kick against her other hand that still was holding the area that harbored her child. It was healthy and fast. It began to move around, perhaps it was waking up.

It did this sometimes. It wouldn't move for hours and hours and then it would suddenly begin kicking, startling her into quiet giggles. She imagined that it was a way of saying, "Hello, I'm here."

Her baby, she would never be ready to say good-bye. They often talked to her about how much better it would be, not just for the child but for her as well. The two of them off to a fresh start; with a child she most certainly could never return to the order, and she would not be employable. It made no sense to try to fight it. The best thing for both would be to separate, or at least that's what they all said.

But no matter how many times she tried to convince herself of that, she never would.

Her mouth dropped, letting out a tiny gasp.

"Not yet," she said standing up and stumbling out of the room as fast as she possibly could. Leaving the office and walking down the hall she covered her stomach with her arms. She protected it as if someone was going to rip the child right out of her. She couldn't sign those papers, at least not right now.

"O Lord, Jesus Christ, Redeemer and Saviour, forgive my sins…"

She stopped when she got to her room and slammed the door closed. She never slammed doors, but she couldn't close it fast enough. With her back against the wall, she let her chest break into inconsolable sobs.

"Please don't ask this of me," she prayed out loud. If there was any way…any way at all. This child was her new reason for being alive. She was thankful for it, a baby. Every backache, every wave of nausea reinforced her humanity. She was a human, not a demon anymore. She was a woman, with a broken soul and a scarred mind. As she looked down and rested her hand where it was kicking, she knew that she couldn't afford to give it away too. Not when she loved it so much already.

Lighting a candle and falling to her knees in desperation she did the only thing she still knew how to do: pray.

Because if being possessed by the devil and falling three stories didn't kill her, losing this child surely would.

…

 **To continue or not? Let me know in a review if I should go on because it's either going to be this or a Ghostbusters fic next. Thanks for reading!**


	2. Control

**Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoy.**

* * *

St. Helena's Home for Unwed Mothers sadly resembled St. Ursula's Home for Lost Children. Unlike Briarcliff, they didn't use electroshock therapy or scorching baths for punishment. All three institutions were run by the Catholic church. On the outside it appeared as though St. Helena's was the less disturbing of the three. It was advertised as a home compared to a ward. A haven for those who found themselves in a family way, away from the harsh judgments of society. She had to admit, the nuns here weren't as awful as the ones she grew up with at St. Ursula's. Maybe because they knew that the girls were already being punished enough, they didn't have to strike them or starve them. Then again, these girls were in no condition for physical mistreatment.

Mary Eunice was nothing like the other girls, the ones who came to St. Helena's as promiscuous teenagers. She let it remain a mystery as to how someone so different could find themselves in the exact same situation as the rest.

The meals were more wholesome here, although by standards they had to be for funding to continue. The commercials followed through, because from the outside it didn't look like an institution, but a house. And it was, filled with dozens of teenagers looking to give a new life to their babies.

Mary Eunice, however, knew better. It was a trap. She had spent one month here prior to being transferred to Briarcliff and she knew every awful thing that was inflicted on the girls. From the unsanitary environments during delivery to the unqualified medical staff, some who weren't even licensed.

The living quarters were simple rooms like the one she had at the asylum. Some girls had to share, but she was fortunate enough to be given a private room next to the other nuns, at Sister Jude's request.

"You don't have to go back there," expressed the older nun before she left, the one who she used to look up to and confide in. After she reversed Sister Jude's confinement as a patient and forced her back into the role of management. She would never forgive herself for confining and abusing the mother she never had while under possession. "Yes, I do," she responded eventually and painfully. After much deliberation, she decided that this would be her punishment. She had to pay for everything she had done.

The worst part about being possessed was that she was there for all of it. And what she could never quite describe was how reality somehow amplified during the spell. Everything was louder and darker, she could "feel" more than she ever had before. Physical touch alone was enough to make her shudder at the memories.

And now that she was in her third trimester, she regretted her decision to do this.

It was lightless and depressing. No one ever smiled, not even when the babies kicked. It wasn't fair to let themselves be proud for even a moment, not when it wouldn't last.

Twenty minutes. That was the time they were given to say good-bye to their children after delivery. In a dark, damp little room by the nursery, they would sit in a chair, stiff and aching from birth. And they would hold the child that they had nurtured underneath their hearts. It would yawn and they would cry, trying to memorize every little detail of these twenty minutes that would have to last a lifetime.

And then it would be taken away forever, with the mother's consent or not.

This was why she asked to be transferred, because it was just too heartbreaking to watch a girl change her mind only to be told that it was too late.

It was a waiting game for them, death row. They usually arrived in their sixth month, when their families could no longer hide them from the critical eyes of society. Some arrived earlier, just as Mary Eunice did. She was placed there almost immediately following the discovery.

The abomination that was once a nun, whose fall nearly killed her but after mere weeks in the infirmary and a month on bed rest, she was well. It was a miracle; the spirit was gone and her soul was free. No doctor would be able to make sense of how she beat death. And no one knew how to react when she wanted to stay in the order. Except Sister Jude, she understood that Mary Eunice had been raised as an orphan in the Catholic church and that it was all she had.

Everyone assumed her nausea and fatigue was typical from the months of being possessed. Only she knew the real reason.

…

The black angel hovered over her resting body. She greeted it with a smile; she knew she was now safe to go home, into the Father's arm where she belonged.

She was beautiful, serene and melodic-like. The very sight of her brought so much peace to the soul that had been fighting for, for so long.

"Take me," the bleeding essence pleaded. The angel got closer, she nodded her head.

"Let go."

Mary Eunice smiled weakly, "The Father still loves me?"

"I'll take both of you," she said with her eyes fixed below the cleansed nun's chest.

The pain of the fall began to set in, and the young woman could barely speak but something inside her stirred when the angel got close to her face.

"Don't let it escape this time. Take the spirit."

"The spirit has returned to which he came from. You will come with me now, and the child will too."

Pause. The child, did she hear correctly?

And then when her eyes furrowed, the angel placed her hands just below her navel.

She gasped for air and winced at the horrible pain in her chest. The child? The Monsignor, the red dress.

She didn't need a moment to think, it was an obvious answer.

"I'm…" she stuttered, now unable to speak. The first thing she had control of since she was taken from herself.

"No…no, this isn't right," she croaked as loud as she could, which was barely at all.

Her hand made its way over her stomach, destroying any doubt that the angel might've had. The angel nodded her head as if she agreed, and disappeared before her very eyes.

…

Sister Jude was the only person she told. The two discreetly made plans to send Mary Eunice to a place where she could continue recovering from her traumatic ordeal. She would do whatever it took to reclaim her name and her life, although both would probably never return to her. Above everything, she wanted to go back in time and erase what she did to two of the most important people in her life. Sister Jude vowed to keep her secret, even from the father of the child.

That wasn't a difficult vow to uphold, though. The Monsignor was long gone by then, and it was probably for the best. Because there was no way that she could ever face him again.

"You know that once they've got you, you can't change your mind," said Sister Jude before the van picked her up and drove her to St. Helena's. It was only a five-minute drive, because the buildings were so close in proximity, and shared the same woods. Mary Eunice couldn't even turn around to look at Sister Jude. That was the whole point. Because she already loved this child more than life itself, and she needed the choice to be out of her control.

"Please forgive me, Sister. For everything," she said looking over her shoulder and sniffling as she headed out the back door.

…

"Let me go! Let me go!" The growls came from the hallway. Mary Eunice got out of bed and walked toward the door, she stuck her head out only to see the backs of three people walking down the hallway. A girl in the middle of two orderlies was being dragged down the long corridor.

"Get your hands off of me!" she was kicking and screaming but to no avail. Mary Eunice watched as they turned the corner out of her view. They hadn't gotten a fighter in a while, but that would change. They would find ways to make her behave. Whether that be isolation or sedation, that girl would soon learn who was in charge around here: them.

She rested her hand over her stomach when it began to kick fiercely, almost causing her pain.

"There, there," she whispered thinking about all of crazies at Briarcliff, "it's nothing we haven't seen before."

…

 **In the next chapter, I'm going to introduce an OC that has significant ties to Freakshow. I appreciate feedback and constructive criticism so leave a review if you have a moment. Thank you!**


	3. Reagan

**In this chapter, I introduce a new character we briefly encountered at the end of Chapter 2. I envision Emma Roberts in this role. Please forgive me for any typos, I'm tired AF. Hope you enjoy!**

...

At lunch she spotted the girl, this time seeing her face. She couldn't have been older than 17, with icy blonde hair that ran down her shoulders and was styled to perfection. On any typical day she would've received her meal and taken it to her room. Besides the obvious, Mary Eunice had little to nothing in common with the others; her shyness didn't help the matter. But something prevented her from walking past the new face, and she decided to do something she never did. And that was talk.

The girl didn't seem to notice Mary Eunice take the seat right across from her, instead she appeared to be absorbed into a book entitled, "The Haunted Showboat." Her soft pink nails were the nicest Mary Eunice had ever seen. She mentally noted how perfect her eyebrows were shaped and her skin, not a single bump or blemish. Her cheekbones were still visible, not one curve anywhere until you got to her stomach.

"What in the hell are you looking at?" growled the girl, not bothering to look up from her book. Mary Eunice wasn't bothered by her harsh tone. It made her feel even more sorry for the girl who worked so hard to appear flawless, disregarding the swell under her dress. She could hear the pain in her voice, but it was so masked with anger that Mary Eunice could only hear it because she was deliberately looking for it. Maybe she had finally met someone as angry as she was.

"You made quite the fuss earlier," she said breaking her silence.

"Piss off," the girl mumbled pulling the book closer to her face.

"I'm Mary Eunice."

"And I'm sorry to hear that," said the girl with icy blonde hair as cold as her words continued to pour. Mary Eunice ignored her and dipped her spoon into her cup of stew. She brought the spoon to her lips and smiled when the taste of roast beef exploded in her mouth.

"You're not hungry?" she asked. That's when the girl threw her book down with squinted eyes and a look of disgust. The teenager scoffed, "How is it not obvious that I don't want to talk to you?"

Mary Eunice delicately used her napkin to dab her lips. This was the first time she was able to look deep into the young girl's eyes and just as she suspected, they were filled with pain and anxiety. Then she lowered her gaze and picked up her plate. It was harder to stand up now, but she managed to get on her feet.

"Wait," she heard after just starting to walk away. "I'm sorry, I mean…I'm Reagan." Her head whipped around with a shy smile. The girl, Reagan, met her with softer eyes and a small barely visible grin herself.

"It's just…"

"No, I understand," said Mary Eunice slowly sitting back down. And that was a hard truth. She understood completely how it felt to be out of control of her life, her body, everything. To make matters worse, it was never an easy transition for anyone to come there.

"You look a lot older than most of the whores here." Reagan said this with a hint of skepticism and humor. It didn't make for a very good joke if she was trying to be funny. Mary Eunice forced an awkward smile. This girl would be spending a lot of time in solitary if she kept this façade going. The nuns did not tolerate crude language or unruly behavior. At this rate she would be there by the end of the day.

"Yeah, I don't belong here either," said the girl turning her head. The way she said it, with little emotion, but it was such a strong statement. The silence after this hung in the air. Then it hit her, she reminded Mary Eunice of Lana. Lana Winters, unapologetic, strong-willed, fiery.

"Why are you here then, Reagan?" she asked without being able to help herself.

The young icy blonde retrieved a cigarette that had been hiding behind her ear and lit it.

"Parents. I've stained the family name. Assholes didn't care who I was sleeping with as long as the money was coming in." Mary Eunice tilted her head in question. "I almost made it big back in L.A. I was already signed on for two pictures. But you know," she patted her stomach sadly, "shit happens."

Mary Eunice pitied the naïve child. No matter how bad things could've been then, there were about to get a whole lot worse. It wasn't normal for the girls to talk about their babies in a positive light. Especially the ones who were close to being due, in fact it was almost non-existent. They talked about the aches and pains their bodies were going through, but it just seemed to be too painful to talk about anything else.

"Do you want it?" she asked before she could stop herself. For such a sensitive subject, and the fact that they were strangers, she normally wouldn't venture into those waters. But to her surprise, Reagan laughed.

"Are you kidding? I don't even want to look at it once it's out." Her reaction was so quick, she had to have been telling the truth. Otherwise the older blonde couldn't have understood the callousness in her voice. It was a shame that she felt so coldly about something so precious. And innocent in all of this. But she gathered from Reagan shifting uncomfortably in her chair that it was just out of frustration and hormones. That's when Mary Eunice nodded her head.

"Why? Do you?" Reagan asked. "No," Mary Eunice said just as quickly, even though she was lying.

"I can't wait to be skinny again," the younger girl said rising stiffly from her chair. "Me too," said Mary Eunice. This also caught her by surprise, saying something so meaningless and superficial. They both chuckled at each other. But it was true, it was hard moving around and bending over. Kneeling down to say her prayers was beginning to be almost impossible. She was sure that one night she would kneel down, and not be able to get back up. Like she would just sink to the floor and become one with it. Some nights she felt like doing just that, passing out on the hard wood and not even bothering to crawl back up into bed. That's how tired she was every night. It was exhausting growing another human being.

"You should be more careful of what you say. The nuns here mean business, you'll get sent to solitary…or worse." Mary Eunice said when she met Reagan on her feet. This brought out another laugh from the younger girl, "Where do you think I just came from?"

…

"Stay," said the man with the lobster hands. His joined fingers extended outwards to trace the outline of her shoulder. Reagan pulled her dress back over her head, allowing Jimmy to see her backside one last time. It was her last day in town before heading back to Los Angeles. At his touch she was reminded of the many nights she spent with him. Fräulein Elsa's Cabinet of Curiosities had been permanently parked outside of Chicago for the past three years, and it was in the city that she had met the older and charismatic Jimmy Darling. He was more than twice her age but he looked and acted just as young as she did.

There was nothing more soothing than being tucked under the covers, with their arms and legs intertwined under the roof of the caravan. The nights they snuck away into the city were the most exhilarating moments she had ever experienced, even compared to the high fashion and star networks of Beverly Hills. It was all so dreamy and adventurous, even when she would pay the price later on. The truth was that she had moved to Chicago to build networks and sign contracts. It was supposed to be a business arrangement living with her Uncle Mitch. But what no one knew, especially her parents, was that Uncle Mitch had plans of his own with her.

In the beginning, every night snuck out to meet Jimmy was a way to escape that pervert's slimy grasp. He had paid a strong amount of attention to her since she was little, but she was too naïve then for her to realize that something was wrong with him. Under his direct supervision, their inappropriate relationship was just one more thing that she had no control over. He wasted no time in abusing her on the very first night. It only made her hatred grow stronger towards the parents who refused to listen. As she sobbed in the phonebooth down the street from the apartment, in fear of him listening, her mother made no attempt to console her. This shut the door for anyone else hoping to come in. Everyone else but Jimmy. He was the exception, the rainbow after the rain.

When he showed her his hands for the first time, she knew that she could trust him. He wasn't performing for her, encouraging her to make fun of him and laugh or point. This was one of the only times in his life where he removed his gloves and said, "Here I am." To which she took his hands in hers and planted little kisses on him. Then she let him pick her up and carry her to his bed.

There were no tears in her eyes as it became time to say goodbye.

"When I become famous in L.A., I'll get on one of my private jets and come back for you."

Jimmy smiled at this, his lobster hands massaging her shoulders. He then spun her around and placed a soft kiss on her forehead, then a stronger and more passionate one on her lips.

"I promise, you haven't seen the last of me," she said in an enticing voice as she slipped out the door and walked right out of his life. They both knew that was a lie.

…

Reagan refused to allow herself to become one with the baby she was carrying. To her it wasn't even a baby, it was more so a disability. It was the sling on a broken arm that was waiting to be taken off. It made no difference if it was Jimmy's or Mitch's. She felt no connection, no bond, no love. She felt nothing except for heartburn and nausea.

Mary Eunice patted her back as they waited in line to be seen by Dr. Marks. It would be the young girl's first time laying down and being "examined." The older blonde tried to prepare her young friend for everything, from the harshness of the doctor's hands to the coldness of the room. It wouldn't be so bad if she could just close her eyes and pretend to be somewhere else for ten minutes. That's how long it took, just ten short minutes and it would be all over. What Mary Eunice didn't know was that Reagan was more than used to escaping moments like these. In fact, she could probably be of more help to Mary Eunice than Mary Eunice could be of to her.

But instead she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, only exchanging a look of worry before being called into the room. Her eyes pleading for comfort even though they seemed very hollow.

...

 **What do you think? Questions? Opinions? Constructive-criticism is welcomed.**


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